Stuck in a Moment
by fieldagent85
Summary: Winter break in New Hampshire with the Bartlets, December 1987. Elizabeth adjusts to motherhood Jed struggles with the possibility of a gubernatorial campaign Abbey has her own problems adjusting to motherhood.
1. Chapter 1

NOTE: Much of the dialogue in this first scene belongs to Sorkin and TBTB at NBC, from the season one episode, "The Crackpots and These Women."

Chapter One

October, 1999

"More oregano," Eleven-year-old Lane Bartlet said.

She sat on the counter beside her older sister, Zoey, who stood in front of the large pot of chili, stirring every so often.

"It doesn't need more oregano," Zoey replied.

Lane nodded.

"Yes, it does."

"You think?"

"Mmm-hmm!"

"Eh, what do you know?"

"More than you," Lane answered, smugly.

"I'm on my way to Georgetown Universtity. You're in…what, fifth grade?"

"Shut up!"

"I'm just saying. I've got seven years on you, kid. So watch out."

Lane shrugged.

"I don't care."

"Yeah, sure ya don't," Zoey said.

Lane pulled a hair tie off of her wrist, pulled her long, blonde hair off of her neck and fastened it loosely in the hair tie.

"Is Ellie gonna come?" She asked.

"I doubt it."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. She probably has class or something. That's her usual excuse," Zoey said.

"Man! This sucks. She's the only one who's nice to me," Lane said, sadly.

"I'm nice to you!"

"Are not!"

"Are too! Er…am too. Whatever. I'm nice to you."

"Nuh-uh. You hate me because I ruined your whole baby of the family thing."

"That's not true! Well, it is true. But I don't hate you, Lane!" Zoey insisted.

"You're my sister, I love you. I'll always love you. Even when you're a total pain in the ass."

"Like when!" Lane questioned, defensively.

"Oh, don't get me started, youngun."

Lane glanced up when she heard the door open slowly, and saw Josh Lyman creeping up behind her sister. He put his fingers to his lips, signaling for her to keep quiet. Lane grinned and turned back to Zoey. Zoey took one look at the grin on her little sister's face and knew.

"Drop the spoon!" Josh shouted.

Zoey rolled her eyes and looked back at him, while Lane laughed uncontrollably.

"I knew it was you."

"You look good!"

"And you look like death on a triscuit," Zoey replied, smirking slyly.

"Oh, thanks very much. I've been seeing a new barber," Josh said.

"I heard you've been having a little nutty today."

"A little!" Lane said, in disbelief. "Try a humungous, gigantic nutty."

"Mind your own business. You too, Baby Smurf," Josh said, sending a challenging look in Lane's direction.

"Bite me, Lyman!" Lane exclaimed.

"Hey, hey, hey, now. If your father catches you saying that, he's gonna blame me. My job is at stake here."

"I got it from Sam."

"Yeah, but see, I'm the scapegoat of the West Wing. Everything falls on me, sweet tart."

"Ew. Who says sweet tart?"

"I do. And that is what you are," Josh said.

"Yeah, well, you're…you're...a triscuit with death on it!"

Josh and Zoey burst out laughing.

"Way to ruin a good phrase there, Laney," Zoey said.

"Hi, Charlie!" Lane said, cheerily, when she noticed her father's personal aide poke his head into the kitchen.

"Lane."

"Charlie, you met Zoey Bartlet?" Josh asked.

"No. It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am, I'm Charlie Young."

"Hi," Zoey said.

"Okay, hang on a second. Let's take it back a moment and give it another chance. This is a girl, Charlie. You don't have to call her ma'am."

"I beg your pardon. Did I call you…"

"Zoey."

"I should call you Zoey?" Charlie asked.

Zoey grinned devilishly.

"If I can call you Charlie."

"Yes. Um, I have a message from the President."

"Oh, jeez," Lane mumbled.

"That would be their father," Josh said.

"You're forbidden from adding additional cumin to the chili."

"Charlie, check the door to see if my father's nearby," Zoey said.

"Ma'am, I…"

"Ah, ah, ah!" Josh said.

"Zoey, I have certain instructions, and I don't want to get in trouble…"

"Come on, Charlie!" Lane cried.

"You're fine," Josh assured them.

"Taste this."

Zoey practically shoved the spoon into Charlie's mouth. Lane giggled as a result.

"Doesn't it need cumin?"

"It needs oregano," Charlie said.

"Ha! SEE! I told you it needed oregano!" Lane shouted. "Thank you, Charlie!

Charlie, Zoey, and Lane returned to the sitting room, where the staff was gathered. Charlie signaled to the President that the chili was ready, and Jed tried to get everyone's attention.

"Uh, excuse me!" Jed shouted. "Thank you. Uh, friends, please…"

The people in the room instantly silenced at the voice of their commander-in-chief.

"Well, chili's ready and I hope you all enjoy it. In fact, since I told you you would enjoy it, I'm reasonably certain that you will."

Jed paused as everyone laughed. Zoey and Lane merely rolled their eyes. They were still a little stunned by the power their father now possessed.

"You know, of course, the First Lady is in Pakistan. I'm not entirely sure why, but I've learned it's a pretty good idea not to ask my wife too many questions as it seldom leads to anything but further confusion. I miss her very much. But I'm delighted our beautiful daughter, Zoey, is here."

Everyone clapped, and vocally acknowledged Zoey's presence. Zoey grinned, slightly embarassed. Lane pouted.

"What about me!" Lane cried out.

"You're always here, Baby Smurf," Josh retorted, to everyone's utter amusement.

"I'm delighted our two beautiful daughters, Zoey and Lane, are here. Is that better, darling?" Jed said, almost sarcastically.

Lane shrugged.

"I guess."

"You know, Zoey is attending Georgetown in the spring. This, prior to medical school and a life of celibacy."

"Yeah, right!" Josh exclaimed.

"It's an incredible adventure you're starting on, sweetheart…"

December 20th, 1987 Washington, D.C.

Sleep had been a foreign concept to Jed and Abbey Bartlet for the last few nights. It was a wonder they remembered how when they time came. Between the two infants that now ruled their household, rare and cherished was the moment when one wasn't crying or fussing in some way that required immediately attention. Lucky for Elizabeth, Annie proved to be the calmer child and enjoyed her sleep. Lane, however, was a completely different story. Lane saw nothing exciting in being quiet and restful.

When the clock struck 4:07 am, after Jed and Abbey had been able to snag a few hours of sleep, the dreaded noise started up again. They didn't need an alarm clock, as Lane's copious cries were alarming enough. The cry was completely her own, not to be confused with Annie's. Annie's cry was soft, yet insistent, like a timid whimper. Lane's was loud and, Jed thought, slightly reminiscent of a police siren wailing. Miraculously, everyone in the house seemed to be capable of sleeping through it. Perhaps it was parental instinct, but neither Jed nor Abbey could ever block their daughter out. At the sound of piercing cries, Abbey rolled over into her husband, still holding on to the last remnants of her precious catnap, which is really all it was. Jed stirred at her touch and turned his body around. After a moment of denial, he opened his eyes groggily. Abbey groaned irritably and opened one eye slowly, then the other.

"I'll go," she offered.

"You sure?" He asked, though he didn't sound intent on fighting her.

"Yeah. You went last time."

She yawned and stretched out her body, lazily.

"Okay," Jed replied, rolling back over and returning to his peaceful dreams.

Abbey threw the covers off her, slipped on her bathrobe, stepped into her slippers, and trudged out of the room. She made the journey downstairs to the kitchen to retrieve the bottle of formula from the fridge, then continued on into Lane's. Her cries was almost deafening, but softened into whimpers when the door opened. Abbey approached the bassinet and glanced down at her daughter. She reached inside to pick her up, but the moments she settled the baby into her arms, she began wailing again. Abbey walked around the room, bouncing her gently as a way to circumvent her tears.

"Shh, it's okay, sweetheart. It's all right," she whispered, soothingly.

Despite her best efforts, the tears and wailing continued, now more fervently than ever. In the next room, Jed tossed and turned, awakened by the continuing noise. Bewildered, he got out of bed and went into Lane's room to investigate.

"What's wrong?" He mumbled.

"Nothing," Abbey replied, quickly. "She's fine."

He rubbed his eyes and walked over to her, squinting his eyes to better his vision.

"She's not fine. She won't take the bottle."

"She's just fussy."

"Give her to me," Jed insisted.

"Jed, she's fine."

"Just let me try."

"Fine," she sighed, and handed her daughter over to her husband.

The crying dimished into sobs, and then finally terminated altogether. Jed smiled, took the bottle from Abbey, and offered it to Lane, who accepted it greedily. Abbey placed her hands on her hips as watched them, thoroughly confused.

"Well," she said, finally. "Looks like you've got the magic touch tonight."

Jed grinned back and moved to have a seat in the rocking chair in the corner of the corner.

"Nobody knows it better than you, babe."

She rolled her eyes and headed back to bed, thanking God for granting her some extra sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Washington, D.C.  
7:31 am

"I can't reach!" Zoey Bartlet exclaimed, hopping up and down in front of the open refridgerator.

"Darling, you don't need to reach. It's on the bottom shelf."

Catherine Bartlet walked past her granddaughter to the cabinet beside the fridge. She opened it, looked around, then tried to reach up as far as she could, but the top shelf was still out of her reach. Having happily realized that the blueberries were indeed on the bottom shelf, Zoey retrieved them. She stood in front of her grandmother, watching with a childish confusion as she tried to reach the top shelf.

"Grandma, what are you doing?"

"Trying to get the chocolate chips. They're on the top shelf. I don't know how your mother survives in this kitchen, because she's much shorter than I am."

Zoey nodded in accord.

"Mommy's a munchkin."

"Yes, she is," Catherine said, smiling.

"I think even I'm taller than her."

"Wouldn't surprise me, honey."

Elizabeth trudged her way into the kitchen, her eyes barely open.

"What's going on?"

"Oh!" Catherine cried, spinning around. "Elizabeth, perfect timing."

"What?"

"Come over here, and get the chocolate chips on the top shelf."

Liz sighed and walked over to the cabinet to do as she was told.

"You couldn't get that yourself?"

"You're at least two inches taller than I am, Liz."

"Wow," Liz commented. "What is it with this family and short people?"

"Chocolate chips please," Catherine demanded, holding her hand out. "And I'm afraid I'm responsible for the dreaded shortness in the family. But not just me. Your grandfather too."

"Grandpa!" Liz asked, surprised. "Isn't he like…six foot one?"

"Your other grandfather, Nick. He's five foot six."

"Pop's a munchkin just like Mommy!" Zoey squealed.

"Well, I'm sure that's where she got it at least," Catherine replied.

"So, what are you guys doing?" Liz questioned, lifting herself up to sit on the counter.

"We're making breakfast. Off the counter, young lady."

"Dad always lets me sit on the counter."

"I don't care. Off," Catherine ordered.

Elizabeth reluctantly complied, hopping off the counter.

"So, Grandma," Liz said, moseying around the kitchen while Catherine and Zoey were hard at work. "Are you going to visit Grandpa when we go home for Christmas?"

Catherine glared at her.

"No."

"But you haven't seen him for months, not since you left."

"Which was exactly the point of leaving him."

"It's Christmas!" Liz exclaimed.

"Yes, and it was also Christmas last year when he decided not to come home until New Year's."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"It's all right, dear."

"Grandma!" Zoey shouted.

"What, Zoey?" Catherine said, returning her attention to her. "Oh, my lord in heaven."

Catherine and Elizabeth both stared at Zoey, wide-eyed and completely lost for words. The seven-year-old was covered, almost from head to toe, in pancake batter, and the occasional chocolate chip.

"Looks like we've got more than just two babies in this house," Liz said, finally.

Jed sat on the edge of the bed beside his sleeping wife. He was already dressed and shaved, and very proud of himself. He watched with an adoring smile as she stirred a little, on the verge of awakening.

"Abbey," he whispered.

"Mmm."

"You have to get up, hon. We've got a lot to do."

He began to rub her back gently, which only made her inclined to continue sleeping longer. He laughed as she tried to bury herself under the covers again.

"Abbey, my mother is downstairs cooking breakfast with the kids. If we don't get down there soon, I'm afraid the house will go up in flames."

"Mmm."

"Abbey, it's ten o'clock! You really have to get up."

Her eyes fluttered open quickly.

"Yeah," Abbey mumbled, yawning. "Okay."

She threw the covers off, swung her legs over the edge, and stood up. She took one look at the clock on her bedside table and shot her husband an irritated glare.

"Jed, it's 7:57."

"Oh." He grinned, sheepishly. "So it is."

She shook her head, moseyed into the bathroom and Jed heard the sink water running.

"You slept right through the baby's six o'clock," Jed called out to her.

Just as Abbey was about to bring the toothbrush to her mouth, she stopped and put it down, watching as her cheeks blushed in the mirror.

"Did I?" She replied, nonchalantly.

"Yeah. You must have been in a deep sleep or something, because she was screaming."

"Huh. How 'bout that."

"It was almost like you were pretending to be asleep."

Abbey spit the toothpaste out into the sink and coughed a couple of times.

"What?"

"Nothing," Jed said. "I'm just talking."

"Where's Lane now? Is she asleep?"

"She's downstairs in the play pen with Annie."

She poked her head out of the bathroom to look at him.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"They're barely two weeks old, Abbey. I don't think they're ready to get into a tiff about makeup and boys just yet."

The Bartlets gathered around the kitchen table, enjoying the elaborate breakfast that Catherine and the kids had prepared. Zoey had been cleaned up for the most part, save for a few spots in her hair where the batter wouldn't come out easily. Jed and Abbey were going to question their daughter's appearance, but decided that it was better if they were just kept in the dark about this one.

"Mom, what time are we leaving?" Ellie asked.

"2:45," Jed replied.

Abbey glanced over at him fleetingly, then turned back to her food.

"Are you Mom?"

He shrugged.

"You were too slow."

"Explain to me again why we're having the christenings in New England," Catherine said.

"That's where the family is, Mom," Jed answered. "If Johnny and Michelle are going to be Lane's godparents, we don't want to make them travel all the way to DC."

"Yeah, and if we deny them the right to be godparents yet again, I think they'll skin us alive," Abbey said.

"Leo and Jenny are my godparents," Zoey announced.

"Very good, honey."

"Millie and Scott are mine," Ellie chimed in.

"We have such intelligent children," Jed said to Abbey, laughing.

"Speaking of which, Liz, have you decided who Annie's godparents are going to be yet?" Abbey asked.

"Mallory, for sure."

"Is Mallory coming?" Zoey asked.

"Yeah, Mallory, Leo, and Jenny are all going home to New England for Christmas too."

"What about a godfather, Liz? I'm thinking Marlon Brando, how 'bout you?" Jed asked.

"I don't know. Can Amy be godfather?"

They all laughed heartily.

"I'm serious!"

"Well, I don't know," Abbey replied, honestly. "Jed?"

"Beats me." He looked at his mother. "Mom?"

"Uh. Well, I don't know for sure either. I suppose we can ask Father Cavanaugh when we get there," Catherine said.

"Okay. And I don't see why we have to drive all the way up there anyway. Why can't we just fly into Boston?" Liz said.

"Because it's not exactly a piece of cake to fly with two infants, Lizzie," Abbey replied. "Especially the way Laney cries."

"Yeah, what's up with that anyway? Annie's not half as bad."

"She never cries for me," Jed said, smugly.  
"Or me," Catherine said.

"Me either," Ellie added.

Abbey avoided their eyes and continued eating.

"Yeah, I don't think she likes you, Mom," Liz said, jokingly.

Abbey threw her fork down, hitting her plate and creating a loud, crashing noise. She stood up and pushed back her chair.

"Enough!" She shouted.

She pushed her chair in forcefully and stormed out of the kitchen. They listened as she stomped up the stairs and heard her bedroom door slam. They all exchanged nervous glances.

"What was THAT about!" Liz questioned.

"Well, kids," Jed said. "Looks like your mother just threw a tantrum."

"And you wonder where Zoey gets it," Catherine said.


	3. Chapter 3

NOTE: Many lines from the first scene belong to Sorkin and TBTB at NBC, taken from the season two episode, "Ellie."

Chapter Three

February, 2001 Washington, D.C.

Jed Bartlet strolled into the Oval Office, wearing a sweatshirt and jeans, and approached Dr. Millicent Griffith.

"Good evening."

"Good evening, sir," she said, a bit too calmly for a woman who was about to forfeit her job. "I apologize for being late, but I was attacked by your daughter outside your office."

Jed raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

"Ellie attacked you?"

"Lane, sir. She's been learning about the digestive system in science and she tried to bribe me into doing her homework for her."

"What'd she offer you?" Jed asked, with amusement.

"Secret Service protection for a whole week. She said she'd lend me some of her guys."

"I take it you declined her proposal."

"I was going to say yes until she brought up all that Secret Service business. I'd have been happy with a dollar."

Jed laughed.

"Listen, I'm sorry about this," the President said, honestly.

"Yes, sir."

He gestured toward the paper in her hand.

"Is that your resignation?"

"Yes, sir."

"Thank you."

"On thinking about it," Millie said. "I thought your firing me would send a dangerous signal to whomever had my job next."

"Did you not think that playing down the dangers of drug use sent a dangerous signal as well?"

"I do not believe that is what I did, sir. I was asked, by and large, if marijuana holds the same addictive properties as heroin or LSD; it does not. I was asked if marijuana poses a greater health risk than nicotine and alcohol, and in my opinion, it does not. And I believe if you look at the transcript..."

"Millie, did you put her up to it?" Jed asked, suddenly.

Millie looked up, startled by the interruption.

"Sir?"

"My father wouldn't fire the Surgeon General, he would never do that," Jed quoted.

"No, sir."

"You didn't pick up the phone after Josh came to see you and say 'Ellie, it's your godmother. Let's stick it to your old man and paint him into a corner'?"

"No, sir."

Jed paced the office, distracted and distraught, searching for answers.

"Why haven't I ever been able to get her to like me?"

"Sir, I'm not sure it's appropriate…"

"I'm asking you," Jed said, clearly desperate.

"Well, I think you're wrong!"

"I'm not."

"She worships you, Mr. President."

Jed shook his head fervently.

"She's mad at me."

"Well, you're mad at her!"

"Yes, I am!"

"Sir…" Millie trailed off.

"I was running for president, where the hell she she?" Jed questioned, angrily.

"She was with us!"

"Not like Liz, Zoey, and Lane."

Millie laughed.

"Well, Lane and Zoey had no choice. They were minors. Where you and Abbey went, they followed…"

"I'm not kidding around here, Millie. Why not Ellie?"

"Sir…"

"She's always belonged to Abbey," Jed said.

"You frightened her!"

Apalled by the preposterous suggestion, Jed's jaw dropped in shock.

"No, I didn't!"

"Sir…"

"How did I frighten her?"

"The same way Abbey frightened Lane."

Jed's eyebrow furrowed in confusion.

"What?"

"When Lane was a baby, all Abbey had to do was go near her and she would cry," Millie explained.

"That's different."

"Why?"

"Because it is and you know it."

"Oh, please. Jed, look where you're standing!"

"I was elected two years ago, she's twenty-four years old!"

"You've been the king of whatever room you walked into her entire life."

"Never seemed to intimidate the other girls," Jed replied.

"Yeah, the same way Lane was only intimidated by Abbey. Kids are different; they're not the same! Lane latched onto you and Ellie latched onto Abbey. You'd be surprised at how soon they understand they're not their parent's favorite."

"That's not true!"

"Sir…"

"That's not true," Jed insisted.

"Mr. President…"

"No, no, no. I will bear with the nonsense of the Christian right and the Hollywood left and the AFL-CIO and the AARP and the Canubus society and Japan, but I will not stand and allow someone to tell me that I love one of my children less than the others. And the same goes for Abbey."

"The difference, sir, is that you never realized how Ellie felt. You never saw how frightened she was of you, and I'm not sure you do now. Abbey recognized it in Lane from the very beginning."

"The thing with Abbey and Lane is completely different," Jed said.

"How!"

Jed sighed and sat down on the couch, as a sign of defeat. Millie walked over and observed him silently, waiting for him to speak.

"I don't know," he whispered. "But it is."

Washington, D.C December, 1987

The morning of the trip to New England, Jed Bartlet and Leo McGarry decided to escape from their hectic homes and went for a walk along the Potomac River. Both families were frantically trying to pack and prepare for their temporary return to New England for the holidays. It was a scene neither Jed nor Leo could stand for very long while keeping their sanity intact.

"Jenny's packed four suitcases so far. Last I heard, Mallory's up to six," Leo said.

"That's nothing. Abbey surpassed that hours ago," Jed replied, digging his hands into his pockets.

"I'm telling you, man. These women."

Jed nodded, pensively.

"These women."

"So, what's going on? You seem a little…down," Leo observed.

"Nah, I'm fine."

"How are the babies?"

"They're great. Wonderful, even. It's my wife I'm worried about," Jed answered.

"Abbey?"

"No, Oprah."

"Point taken. What's up with Abbey?" Leo asked.

"I don't know," Jed said, quietly. "She's been acting so…touchy lately."

"Like tempermental?"

"Yeah. I can't seem to get in her head."

"Welcome to my world, buddy," Leo said.

"It's not my world, Leo. I always know what she's thinking."

"No, you don't. You know how she's feeling, but you'll never know what she's thinking."

"Same thing," Jed said.

"No, it isn't."

"Yeah, well. Either way, it's sure as hell pissing me off."

"Have you tried…I don't know, talking to her?" Leo questioned. "I hear that works from time to time, but I've never actually experienced success with it so…"

"We haven't had a chance to. It's an absolute madhouse in there right now. And when we get to New England, I doubt it'll be any better.

"You'll find time. Meanwhile, I think we may have a bigger crisis on our hands. And by we, I mean me."

"Oh, Lord. What's up?"

"Jenny says her biological clock is ticking," Leo stated.

"What! Jenny's forty-two, I think her alarm went off already."

"Well, this is the part where I blame you, because Jenny's been inspired by Abbey. And seeing as how you're the one who knocked Abbey up, I find you fully responsible for my current predicament."

"Funny how that works, isn't it?" Jed said. "And anyway, we didn't plan for her to get pregnant. It just happened. Tell Jenny to put that in her pipe and smoke it."

"Yeah, 'cause that's not going to land me on the couch for the next three months."

"It's the truth."

"I know it's the truth," Leo replied. "But that doesn't mean a thing to Jenny."

"I can see where you'd run into a problem there."

"Listen, all I'm saying is, maybe you could talk to Jenny while we're up north and convince her otherwise. She'll listen to you."

"Why me?"

"Well, you were both elected into the United States government by the good people of New Hampshire…"

"The good people of Illinois who elected you aren't good enough for her?" Jed asked.

"Apparently not."

"All right, I'll see what I can do. But I'm not promising anything. And if you end up on the couch despite my best efforts, don't come crying to me."

Though her closet was almost completely empty, Abbey Bartlet still managed to find things to stuff into her many suitcases. After clearing out the closet, she staged her attack on the bureau, tearing through the drawers frantically. From the next room over, Abbey could hear her infant daughter begin to whimper again, for the tenth time that moring. Realizing that her husband wasn't home, she immediately went into a panic.

"Uh…Catherine!" Abbey shouted.

"Downstairs!" Catherine matched her volume.

"Could you get Lane, please? I'm in the middle of something!"

"No can do. Liz is in the shower, I'm watching Annie!"

Abbey's eyes widened in horror. This meant that….no. She couldn't. She couldn't go through that humiliation any longer. Nor could she allow her daughter to scream at the top of her weak little lungs until Jed got home. She took a moment to brace herself, then walked into Lane's room with a clearcut determination. She walked over to her crib, reached in, and pulled her daughter up into her arms. Lane began to wail much louder than before, to the point where her little face turned red and her cheeks were soaked with tears. Abbey did her very best not to let it get to her, her determination remaining steadfast and intact. She moved over to the rocking chair in the corner of the room and stand down, slowly rocking back and forth. But the supposedly soothing movement did nothing to deter Lane Bartlet's piercing cries. After a few moments, Abbey's wall of strength came crumbling down and soon, she matched Lane's tears with a few of her own. 


	4. Chapter 4

NOTE: Many lines from the first scene belong to Sorkin and TBTB at NBC, taken from the season four episode, "Privateers."

Chapter Four

April, 2003 Washington, D.C.

"No, it's not that easy," The First Lady said, grinning devilishly. "But we're gonna do it anyway."

Amy Gardner shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Start lobbying."

"Yes," Amy answered, quickly.

"Thank you."

Abbey stood up and glided towards the door, only to be met by Will Bailey and CJ Cregg on her way out.

"Good morning, ma'am," Will greeted her.

"Good morning," Abbey replied, pleasantly. "A glacier melted in Alaska."

"Are you a little freaked out about that too, ma'am?"

"No."

"I didn't mean that I was…" Will said.

"Mrs. Bartlet," CJ said. "You know Lane's waiting out there, right?"

"Lurking in the shadows?" Abbey asked.

CJ smiled.

"More or less."

Abbey nodded and continued on out of Amy's new office. She wasn't in the least bit surprised when her youngest daughter, then fifteen years old, approached her.

"Mom."

"Lane," Abbey said, not slowing down for a moment.

Lane sprinted after her until she was able to walk in step beside her.

"What's up, Laney?"

"I have a question," Lane said.

"Ya don't say."

"It's about the thing tonight. The DAR thing."

"Yes, you have to go," Abbey said, firmly.

"No, I know. That's not it."

"What then?"

"Well…Zoey's bringing Jean-Paul."

Abbey cringed at the thought. Truthfully, Lane did too, but her sister's boyfriend was neccesary to assist her current argument, so she concealed her dislike for him.

"Yes…"

"And I think it's only fair that I should be able to bring a date too."

"No," Abbey replied, simply.

"Mom! You haven't even heard my argument yet!"

"I know your argument, Lane. Zoey's bringing a date, why can't you?"

"Well…yeah," Lane responded, scurrying behind her. "Why are we walking so fast?"

"Practice for the Boston Marathon. And just to set the record straight, Zoey can bring a date because Zoey is over eighteen, and sadly, I no longer control her. I do, however, hold the reins to your horse, dear. And I will steer it wherever I so desire."

"But that's not fair!"

"Tough beans, sugar," Abbey said.

"Okay, give me one reason why I can't bring a date."

"As the youngest child of the President of the United States, who just happens to be only fifteen, I hardly think it would be appropriate for you to bring a date to a reception thrown by the Daughters of the American Revolution."

"Dad would let me if I asked him," Lane retorted.

Abbey raised an eyebrow at her and laughed heartily.

"Keep dreaming, girl. Like he's going to provide a venue for some adolescent boy to corrupt his youngest daughter. Please."

"Come on, Mom. It's just one little party. It's not gonna be a big deal or anything, I swear," Lane insisted.

"The answer is no."

Lane frowned, her eyes locked on her mother as they walked.

"Aren't you afraid I'm just going to stop talking to you one day?" Lane questioned, wryly.

Abbey smirked.

"One can only hope."

December, 1987 Manchester, New Hampshire

It had been nearly a year since the Bartlet family had visited their farm in Manchester, New Hampshire. And what an eventful year it had been. Jed couldn't wait to settle in and spend the next week and a half experiencing full, unadultered relaxation, the kind that was unattainable in Washington.  
Jed lounged on the couch in the living room, with his feet resting on the coffee table before him. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so carefree.

"Jed, darling," Catherine called upon entering the room.

"Please, for the love of God, don't tell me something that's going to stress me out," Jed replied, with his eyes closed.

"Well…"

"Bunnies, fairies, or prime rib, Mom. Take your pick."

"What?" Catherine asked, thoroughly bewildered. "Were you just asking what I wanted for dinner, because I'm a little…"

"Mom." Jed opened his eyes and sat up. "What do you need?"

"The bathroom."

"You're a big girl now, Mother, I think you can do that on your own."

Catherine placed her hands on her hips and glared at him.

"The location of the bathroom, Josiah."

"Mom, you've been coming to this house for, like, five hundred years. You don't know where the bathroom is?"

"It's been a long time."

"Down the hall, third door on the left," Jed replied, monotonously.

"Thank you."

In Catherine's absence, Jed returned to his rest and relaxation ritual. Just moments later, however, she was replaced by three more Bartlet women. Jed heard their footsteps as they walked in and opened one eye, then the other.

"Daughters," Jed greeted them. "What can I do for you three lovely ladies?"

"Zoey won't shut up about Mom so we've leaving her with you," Elizabeth announced.

Jed swung his legs off the coffe table and sat up straight.

"I beg your pardon?"

Zoey scurried over to her father and hopped up into his lap.

"Where's Mommy?"

"Honey, we've been over this," Jed replied, calmly.

Liz and Ellie exchanged a high five, and Jed shot them a dirty look as they happily exited the room, now free of baggage.

"Tell me again."

"Mom's gonna stay with Nan and Pop tonight, Zo."

"But it's our first night at the farm!" Zoey argued.

"She'll be up tomorrow, hon."

"Why doesn't she want to stay with us tonight?"

"I don't know, sweetie. I guess she just missed Nan and Pop so much that she simply had to see them tonight," Jed surmised.

"Why couldn't we come?"

"Because she knew you'd want to stay at the farm tonight."

"I wanna stay wherever Mom is," Zoey said.

"Tell you what," Jed said. "You can call her tonight at Nan and Pop's before you go to bed. How does that sound?"

Zoey's face broke out into a huge grin.

"Kay! Thank you, Daddy."

"You're welcome. Now. Go bug your sisters."

Without hesitation, Zoey jumped quickly off her father's lap and began her mission to find, and successfully annoy, her older sisters. Once she was out of sight, Jed returned his feet to their rightful place on the coffee table and resumed his recumbent pose on the couch.

Andover, Massachusetts

Abbey Bartlet ascended the stairs that lead to the porch of her childhood home, as memories of years past flooded her mind. It was a cop out to say this, but things truly were much simpler back then, Abbey thought. She remembered the time she and her sisters had set up a lemonade stand on the corner (and made a total of five dollars in one day), the time they had built a fort out of ice and snow during the blizzard of '54, and the time she had watched her brother Michael ride his bike on a path right into the willow tree in the front yard, and laughed at him for well over three minutes before calling her parents for help. Still smiling at her recollections, she let herself in the front door of the house, and looked around for signs of human life.

"Dad?" Abbey called. "Nan?"

Nicholas Bennett ran up from the basement and into the foyer to greet his middle daughter.

"Abbey!" He exclaimed, drawing her into his arms for a hug.

"Hi, Daddy," she said, softly.

Nick pulled away from her slightly so he could give her the once-over.

"You look thin."

Abbey laughed.

"You just haven't seen me since I had the baby."

"Ah, the baby, the baby! Come to think of it, where is the baby?" Nick questioned.

"Jed took the girls up to Manchester already. I wanted to come and see you guys first."

"Whatever for?" Nick asked, laughing.

"I thought you'd be happy to see me!" Abbey pouted.

"I am, I am! I'm just…surprised."

Abbey moseyed into the living room and collapsed onto the couch. Nick followed, observing her movements carefully. He sat down beside her and placed his arm around her shoulders.

"What's wrong?"

Abbey glanced over at him.

"What makes you think something's wrong?"

"Something IS wrong."

"It's nothing important." She shrugged.

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?"

"I don't know. It's probably nothing, and I'm just making something of it. It's just that..well…my daughter hates me," Abbey confessed.

"What!"

"Lane. I swear to God, Dad, the child cannot stand to be in my presence. She cries whenever I come near her, and screams at the top of her lungs if I try to touch her."

"Is it colic?"

"No! She's fine with everyone else. Perfectly well-behaved. And she just revels in Jed. She can't get enough. It's me she won't tolerate."

"Have you thought about why?" Nick asked.

"I haven't thought about anything but why. I can't come up with anything. All I did was give birth to the child, and she hates me. It's embarassing, Dad! I can't go near my own daughter without her screaming."

"Okay, cookie," Nick said, with a sigh. "It's story time."

"Is this a true story or a 'Life according to Nick Bennett' story?" Abbey replied.

"A true story! And I'm offended that you would even say such a thing."

"All right. Proceed."

"You were the same way with your mother when you were a baby," Nick stated.

Abbey stared at him for a moment, anticipating more. When he didn't continue, she narrowed her eyes in confusion.

"That's your story?"

"Yes."

"I think that's a 'Life according to Nick Bennett' story, conjured up to make me feel better," Abbey said.

"It's not," Nick insisted. "It's the truth. From the time you were a week old until you were three months old, you would cry whenever your mother came near you. It damn near drove her out of her mind. She couldn't understand what she had done to make you loathe her so. But you grew out of it."

"Dad…"

"All I'm saying is, it didn't last then, and it won't last now. She'll overcome it. Give her time. Methinks this child might be just like you. She may not like you right now, but I think she IS you. So for now, don't sweat it. If she hasn't taken to you after a few months, but maybe you should seek some outside help. But until then, I think you're okay."

"You think so?" Abbey asked, uncertainly.

"At the risk of sounding like the old, clichéd fatherly type, I know so."

April, 2003 Washington, D.C.

"How do you moniter what a doctor says to a patient in Zimbabwe anyway?" Abbey questioned.

"You don't," Jed replied, matter-of-factly.

"We'll just get more aggressive on the domestic side."

"We will."

"Move family planning to a discretionary account in next year's budget rounds," Abbey continued.

"Keep talking, I'll turn off the lights," Jed replied, leaning over to the night stand and switching off the lamp.

"Are you getting up at six tomorrow?"

"No, I have to get up early."

Jed felt her squirming around restlessly beside him and turned to face her, in the dark.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," she replied. "Actually, no. I have to go talk to Lane."

Abbey threw off the bedspread, swung her legs over the edge, and got out of bed. Jed leaned over and switched the lamp back on.

"Abbey, she's asleep. Whatever it is can wait until morning. Come back to bed."

"No, I can't let this simmer overnight."

"What do you need to talk to her about?" Jed asked.

"This morning she asked me if she could bring a date to the DAR thing, and I told her no."

"So? I would have told her no too."

"Yeah, but I could have been a lot nicer when I did it," Abbey said.

"What'd you say?"

"Well, she said something like 'aren't you afraid I'm just gonna stop talking to you one day?' and I said 'one can only hope.'"

"Abbey," Jed said. "I'm sure she knows you were joking. Anyone who's ever met you would know you were joking when you said that."

"Not Lane."

"She's fifteen, Abbey, your sense of humor doesn't fly over her head anymore. She understood, I'm telling you."

"I want to go apologize anyway."

"Come here," Jed said, sitting up.

"Jed…"

"Sit down."

Abbey reluctantly walked over to sit on the edge of the bed beside him. He sat beside her, and began rubbing her neck.

"As nice as that feels, I really have to go talk to Lane."

"You never really got over it, did you?" Jed asked, softly.

"What?"

"When Lane was a baby. You know."

"That's not what this is about," Abbey insisted.

"Yeah, it is," Jed replied. "You've been chewing on this for fifteen years. You have to let it go. You can't go apologizing to her every five minutes just for acting like her mother. You're supposed to tell her no now and then, you're supposed to guide and discipline her. Believe me, she's not going to love you any less because of it."

"How do you know that?"

"You're her mother, Abbey. You may piss her off at times, but that's what you're supposed to do and deep down, Lane realizes that. She gets pissed at me sometimes too. But in my opinion, if your kids are mad at you every once in awhile, that means you're doing your job right."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Zoey Bartlet sat on the couch, propped up on her knees, gazing out the window anxiously. She strained her neck, trying to see as far as she could. Snow was falling lightly outside, creating a picturesque quality to the already beautiful land that surrounded the Bartlet family farm.

An ecstatic grin lit up Zoey's face as she watched a familiar car glide up the driveway.

"Mommy's home!"

She jumped off the couch and sprinted toward the front door. Jed walked out of the kitchen just before she could open it.

"Zoey, stay in here. It's freezing out there."

"But Mommy's home!"

Before Jed could respond to her exclamation, the door opened without Zoey's help and Abbey strolled into the old house. She unraveled her scarf from around her neck and shook the snowflakes out of her hair. She then took off her long, wool coat and hung it up on the coat rack beside the door.

"See!" Zoey said to her father. "I TOLD you."

She run over to her mother and into her waiting arms.

"Oh, really, honey, you're getting much too big for this," Abbey said.

"I've been waiting for you all morning!" Zoey exclaimed.

"I got here as soon as I could, baby doll."

Abbey leaned over and gently placed her daughter on the floor. Jed approached her cautiously.

"How are your parents?"

"Fine," Abbey replied, casually. "Nan's in Boston for the weekend, but Dad was there."

"How is he?"

"Fine."

She walked past him, following her nose into the kitchen in search of the scent it detected.

"I'm making lunch," Jed said, appearing beside her.

"Oh. Okay."

"Abbey, is everything all right?" He placed a warm hand on her shoulder, concerned. "You seem a little…"

"Fine," she answered, tersely. "Everything's fine."

She brushed his hand off, turning and walking away. He watched her walk away in silence, completely stunned.

"Okay," Jed said, addressing his family when they had all gathered at the dining room table for lunch. "Plans for tonight. You first, Lizzie."

Elizabeth finished chewing and took a sip from her glass of water before speaking.

"Oh. Well, I was just gonna go to Amy's tonight."

"Bringing Annie, I assume?" Abbey asked.

"Yes, Mom, I'm bringing Annie."

"Good."

"Okay. What about you, girls?" Jed said, looking at Ellie and Zoey.

Ellie shrugged.

"I don't know about Zoey, but I'm going to Megan's house."

"No!" Zoey cried. "You can't. You have to come with me to Aunt Michelle's"  
"I told Megan I'd come over."

"You know I can't spend the night with someone else all by myself!"

"So don't go to Aunt Michelle's," Ellie reasoned.

"But I wanna play with Stephanie."

"Then go to Aunt Michelle's."

"Ellie," Abbey said. "Would you please go with your sister?"

Ellie sulking, leaning back in her chair miserably.

"What about Megan?"

"You can see Megan tomorrow. I promise."

"Fine."

"Thank you, sweetheart."

"Yeah," Ellie replied.

"Mom, what about you?" Jed asked, glancing over at Catherine.

"Your brother is taking me out to dinner."

"Johnny?"

"No," Catherine replied, sarcastically. "Your other brother."

"This sarcasm is not becoming on you, Mother," Jed said, shaking his head.

"You bring it out in me, darling."

"Dad, what are you and Mom gonna do tonight?" Liz asked.

"Well, I'm driving down to Concord to see Governor Foley."

"Really?"

"Why's that, Jed?" Catherine questioned.

"Honestly don't know, to tell you the truth. He called and asked if I'd pay him a visit while I'm in New Hampshire."

"He didn't say why?"

"He didn't say why," Jed confirmed. "But does he need a reason? Bob and I go way back to high school."

"Ah, that's right," Catherine replied. "He went to your father's school, didn't he?"

"And succeeded with flying colors. Hence why he's now the governor of the great state of New Hampshire."

"Live free or die!" Zoey exclaimed.

They all laughed, and Jed smirked proudly.

"Have I got this one trained or what?"

"Hey, Mom, what are you gonna do tonight?" Ellie questioned, once the laughter had subsided.

"Well, someone has to stay with Lane if we're all going out," Catherine pointed out.

Abbey sighed and shrugged her shoulders indifferently.

"Guess that'll be me."

"Darling, I can stay home tonight if you'd rather go out," Catherine offered.

"No, it's okay, Catie. You need to see Johnny. Thanks."

"Abbey, if you want me to stay home, I can…" Jed began.

"No," Abbey interrupted him. "It's fine."

"We can both stay home if you want," he continued. "Rent a couple movies, and then…"

"Jed," she said, sternly. "I said it's fine."

The children all exchanged wary glances with their grandmother, who shook her head, signaling for them to just drop it. They all looked down at their plates awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with both Jed and Abbey.

"Yeah. Okay," Jed muttered to him, thoroughly annoyed by his wife's sudden hostility.

Shortly following lunch, Abbey had bolted out of the house. One of the farm's many benefits was an infinite amount of space. She could have literally walked for hours and still remained on her own property. However, what with the also infinite amount of snow that seemed never to relent, it made things a bit difficult. Though she had struggled desperately to escape her house and its inhabitants, somehow she found discovered.

"Abbey!"

Abbey whipped around abruptly, and saw her mother-in-law running towards her. Running may be too strong a word, as the snow was close to making movement of any kind impossible.

"Catherine, what are you doing out here?" Abbey called. "You're going to catch your death of cold!"

Catherine didn't reply until she reached Abbey's side, completely out of breath.

"Cate, you really should go back inside."

"Not until you tell me what's going on between you and my son."

"You're going to have pneumonia over Christmas," Abbey said, softly.

"Abbey, I'm not kidding around here."

"That coat isn't near warm enough for this weather."

Catherine placed her hands on her hips with irritation and looked her daughter-in-law square in the eye.

"I didn't come all the way out here in the freezing cold and foot of snow for you to tell me I'm just making myself sick!"

"What did you expect? I'm a doctor. That's what I get paid to do."

"You don't see me writing you any checks, Abigail."

"Everything's fine, Catherine," Abbey insisted.

"So I hear. Fine has apparently become your word of the day."

"Who are you to judge my marriage, Cate? Just look what happened to yours!"

It took a moment for Catherine to register her words and recover from the insult that had just been hurled at her.

"My marriage was not, on its best day, in the same league as yours is," Catherine said, somberly. "I hate to see you fighting, that's all. I'm a concerned parent. So put me at ease and tell me everything's okay. Honestly and truly okay."

Abbey shook her head.

"I can't do that, Catie. I can't lie to you."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Manchester, New Hampshire

Abbey Bartlet rushed into the kitchen the second her ears registered the distinct sound of the heated tea kettle whistling. She quickly removed it from the warm burner and places it on the cooler one beside it. She stood for a moment, listening intently for the excrutiating cries of a two-week old infant. When she heard nothing, she proceeded to pour the hot water into her mug, add the tea bag, milk, and sugar. Wrapping her fingers around the mug, she picked it up, walked into the living room, and collapsed onto the couch. She leaned over and grabbed the remote control from the coffee table and took the time to engage in a little channel surfing, an activity she rarely had the time, or desire, to participate in. She passed on the news, All in the Family re-runs, and The Cosby Show, finally settled on the movie Reds. She had seen the film in theaters, when it was first released in 1981, but not since then.

"Oh, Lord," Abbey muttered to herself as she watched Warren Beatty and Diane Keaton start a shouting match.

Although it was almost drowned out by the actors' loud voices, the sound of baby Lane's cries eventually reached her ears, to her utter dismay. She placed the mug and the remote control on the coffee table and reluctantly stood and trudged her way up the stairs into Lane's room. The volume of Lane's anguished wailing rose when she entered the room and approached her crib.

"Hey, you," she said, a challenging tone in her voice. "You can't embarrass me now, there's no one here. If you want me to satisfy that hunger of yours, you're going to have to stop crying, you hear me? Oh, what am I doing? I'm bargaining with an infant."

She leaned over the crib and gently gathered her daughter into her arms, cringing when she continued to cry. Though it was expected, each time Abbey blindly hoped it would change.

"You might as well stop crying now, Laney. There's no one here but me. Your sainted father is not going to come whisk you away from me. It's just me tonight, baby, so give it up. I did spend twelve hours of my life trying to push you out of my body, you know. It was no walk in the park either. You owe me your life, little girl, quite literally. I don't know what it is about me that you detest so much, but let me tell you, the feelings are not mutual. You can cry until you're blue in the face, but I'll love you anyway. That's right. You're not getting rid of me anytime soon, kid. Not until your eighteen, and we're looking at seventeen years and fifty weeks before that's happening. So, whadaya say? Truce?"

Abbey looked expectantly down at her daughter, praying that, by some stroke of miracle, the screaming would stop and the tears would dry. This, however, would not prove to be the case.

"That was fantastic!" Catherine Bartlet exclaimed, bursting outside the doors of the restaurant. "I haven't been to a restaurant like that in ages."

"Glad you enjoyed it, Mom," Johnny Bartlet said, trailing behind her.

"I did, thank you."

They walked through the parking lot, arm-in-arm, until they reached Johnny's 1985 Toyota sedan.

"Ready for our next stop?"

"And where might that be?" Catherine asked.

"Get in the car and you'll find out."

Concord, New Hampshire

"Jed!"

Governor Bob Foley greeted Jed Bartlet in the foyer, holding his arms wide open.

"How ya doin', Bob?" Jed asked, giving him a hug.

"Great, fine, excellent, all of the above," Bob replied, leading Jed into the his private study at the Governor's Mansion. "How about you?"

"Fine, thanks."

"How's Abbey?"

"She's…she's okay."

"Oh! She just had a baby, didn't she?" Bob questioned.

"Yeah, a girl. Lane. Liz had a baby too, ya know. I'm a grandfather."

"That's right, I remember. Well, congratulations!"

"Thank you!"

Bob sat down in an overstuffed chair in the middle of the room and beckoned for Jed to sit on the couch across from him.

"I'm glad you came, Jed. It's been a long time."

"Yes, it has."

"Listen, there's something I wanted to talk to you about," Bob stated.

Jed laughed.

"Yeah, I figured you had ulterior motives."

"As you know, I'm going into my last year as governor and the search for a worthy successor is a tough job."

"Tougher than actually being governor?" Jed smirked.

"It's getting there."

"And anyway, I thought you'd found your preferred successor. I thought Mark Walters was running."

"Dropped out," Bob replied.

"You're kidding."

"No. Last week. I'm surprised you didn't hear about it."

"Well, what happened?" Jed asked.

"His wife has cancer."

"Oh, God. I'll have to call him. What kind of cancer?"

"Ovarian, I believe."

"Do me a favor, Bob?"

"Sure, what?"

"Don't tell Abbey about that, okay?" Jed said.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Her mother died of ovarian cancer. You know…it just upsets her."

"Right. Okay."

"Anyway. You want me to help you scout out a new candidate or…?"

"Actually, I've already chosen a new successor," Bob said.

"Yeah, who?"

"You."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Westford, Massachusetts

"It's MY dollhouse, Zoey!" Stephanie Brady pointed out, possessively.

Zoey Bartlet sat on the floor beside the oversize dollhouse and shot her cousin an evil glare.

"So?"

"So, I get to decide who I want to be! I want to be the Mom!"

"I want to be the Mom!" Zoey argued. "I don't want to be the Dad."

"Why not? The Dad's cool!"

"Please, Stephy! You can play with the Mom all the time, 'cause it's yours. Just let me play her this one time."

"Why do you wanna be the Mom so bad?" Stephanie questioned.

"Cause she's the Mom! I wanna pretend she's my mom."

Stephanie sat down beside her and folded her arms across her chest.

"I don't get it. Why do you wanna do that?"

"My mom doesn't play with me anymore," Zoey admitted, pouting.

"Why not?" Stephanie questioned, thoroughly confused. "My mom plays with me."

"She's always crying. I think because the baby's always crying. The baby stops crying when Daddy holds her, but not when Mommy does. So Mommy runs away and stays in her room. She doesn't talk to Daddy, she doesn't talk to Grandma, she doesn't talk to Lizzie, she doesn't talk to Ellie, and she doesn't talk to me!"

"But that's silly."

"Yeah. But I miss her," Zoey said, tearfully.

"Why don't you talk to her?"

"She's never around to talk to. Grandma says she's 'going through a tough time.' I don't know what that means. Do you?"

"No, but I can ask my mom. She might know," Stephanie suggested.

"You think?"

"Yeah! My mom and your mom are sisters, I'm sure they talk and stuff. Let's go get Ellie and Tallulah."

In the kitchen, Michelle Bennett-Brady was finishing up the dishes from dinner, balancing the phone between her ear and her shoulder.

"No, they're fine, Abbey," Michelle said. "Steph and Zoey are off playing in the other room, and Ellie and Tallu are watching tv. Full House, I think."

"They're not giving you any trouble?" Abbey asked.

"Are you kidding me? Your kids!"

"Zoey's been known to raise a ruckus or two in her time."

"No, they've been perfect. Zoey and Stephanie were having a tiff a few minutes ago about the dollhouse, or something like that, but things seem to have quieted down."

"Okay, good."

"Hey, is it snowing there?" Michelle questioned.

"Heavily."

"Here too. I might have to bring the girls home tomorrow night, as opposed to tomorrow morning. I want to wait until they plow and salt the roads."

"That's fine," Abbey said, placidly.

Michelle glanced over at the doorway to find her two daughters, along with two of her nieces, waiting patiently to have her attention.

"Hey, I'm being ambushed by the munchkin squad," Michelle said. "I'll call you back."

She hung up the phone, dried off her hands with a dish towel, and walked over to stand in front of them.

"Yes, children? Is there something you'd like to say to me?"

"Zoey does," Stephanie said, pushing her cousin forward.

"Ummm…" Zoey trailed off.

"What is it, hon?" Michelle asked.

"Do you know what's wrong with my mom?" Zoey asked, timidly.

"What do you mean?"

"She's always crying," Ellie said. "And she doesn't talk to anyone, not even Dad. It's weird."

"I was just on the phone with her. She sounded fine to me."

"She's not."

"Oh. Well, I don't know what to tell you, girls. She hasn't mentioned anything to me, and we talk all the time."

"It's really bad, Aunt Michelle," Ellie said.

"I'll tell you what," Michelle began. "When I bring you back to the farm tomorrow, I'll talk to your mom about it. All right?"

They all nodded enthusiastically.

"Good. Now go let me finish these dishes and maybe I'll make you all some hot chocolate. How's that?"

Manchester, New Hampshire

"Turn the car around, Johnny," Catherine Bartlet ordered.

"No dice, Mom."

"What is this, the Parent Trap? Turn the car around!"

Johnny shook his head and continued driving in the same direction. Catherine's eyes widened in fear as the car pulled up the driveway of the house she had lived in for forty-five years. Her hands began to shake and her lips began to tremble in fear. Noticing this, Johnny placed a comforting hand over hers and smiled warmly.

"It's going to be okay, Mom."

"Why are you doing this?" Catherine asked.

"You can't avoid him forever. Eventually you'll start seeing him at family functions and such, and you don't want things to be awkward between the two of you."

"Things were always awkward between us, Jonathan! From the day we got married until the day I left him, things were awkward!"

"Well, now you can be friends and put all of that behind you."

Catherine shook her head disdainfully.

"You are your father's son, Johnny. In name and in evil, scheming tactics!"

Johnny laughed and brought the car to a halting stop in front of the house. Catherine looked up at the ominous-looking house nervously.

"Go on. Get out of the car, Mom," Johnny said.

"Is he expecting me?"

"He's looking forward to it actually."

"Really?"

"Absolutely. Now get out."

Catherine reluctantly opened the car door and carefully stepped out of the vehicle. She looked back at Johnny, who was still seated in the car.

"Johnny? Aren't you coming?"

"Nope!" He called out the window. "Snow's getting pretty bad. I should get be getting back to the wife and kid. Have a great night!"

Catherine watched with her jaw practically touching the ground as her youngest son backed out of the driveway and left her all alone to witness the Fall of the House of Bartlet.

The curtains were drawn and the lava lamp turned on in Amy Gardner's bedroom at her parent's house. Posters of Bob Dylan, Peter Gabriel, John Lennon, Van Morrison, and Bono adorned the green walls, watching over the room's three current occupants as U2's latest record played in the background. Amy sat on the blue-carpeted floor, holding her goddaughter, a Miss Anne Rosalynn Bartlet. Elizabeth Bartlet was sprawled out on the bed watching them carefully.

"She is the most precious thing I have ever seen!" Amy declared. "Aren't you, Annie? Yes, you are!"

Liz grinned, propping her elbows on the bed and dropped her hand into her hands.

"And she looks just like you, Liz. Really. Spitting image. There's not an ounce of Ben Silverman in her!"

"She wasn't divinely conceived, Amy. There's a little Ben in her, somewhere," Liz replied.

"Oh well. Your genes clearly dominate his."

Liz crawled off the bed and hopped onto the floor to sit besisde Amy.

"How's Brown?" Liz asked.

"It's…Brown. I mean, it's great. It's just hard."

"That's what you get for going to an Ivy League school."

"Yeah, I know. I can't complain," Amy replied. "There's just been so much drama at the dorm. I swear to God, freshmen don't know how to handle themselves in public."

"From a fellow freshman? That's convincing."

"I'm serious! It's like being back in a junior high. You'd think that being at a Ivy League school there'd be less drinking and partying, but you'd be wrong. The cops show up at my dorm every night."

"Oh, like you're little Miss Innocent. You're probably out partying with them," Liz retorted.

"Okay, maybe now and then. But I haven't been arrested yet and let me tell you, that is a huge accomplishment."

Liz laughed.

"I'll bet."

"So how is everyone? How's Lane?" Amy questioned, bouncing Annie lightly on her knee.

"Lane…cries."

"What?"

"I don't know how else to describe her," Liz said.

"She cries all the time?"

"Well, not so much all the time but…when Mom's around."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I think it's making her a little crazy. She's been lashing out at everyone, especially my dad."

"I don't blame her," Amy answered. "It would make me crazy too if my own daughter couldn't stand to be around me."

"I know, and I understand why she's upset. I just don't know what to do about it."

"I don't think there's anything you can do. Just wait for things to work themselves out."

"That's a cop-out," Liz said.

"Got a better idea?"

"No."

"All right then."

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation. They turned their heads as Evelyn Gardner popped her head in.

"What's up, Mom?" Amy asked.

"Look out the window," Evelyn said, walking across the room to pull back the curtains.

Amy and Liz stood up and approached the window, staring outside with astonishment. They had both been aware that it had been snowing pretty heavily earlier, but nothing could have prepared them for what looked like two whole feet of snow piled up on the ground. The snowflakes were falling even heavier now, and showed no sign of stopping.

"Well, how do ya like that?" Adam Gardner said, announcing his strong presence in the room.

He walked over to stood beside his wife, straining his neck over the two girls to look out the window. Amelia Gardner, the true child of Adam and Eve, looked up at her parents nervously.

"How's Liz gonna get home?"

Adam and Eve exchanged wary glances, then turned back to Amy and Liz.  
"Looks like you'll be spending the night, Lizziekins," Adam said, with a wink and a pat on the shoulder.

"Do you have everything you need for Annie?" Eve questioned.

"Uh…yeah, I think she'll be all right."

"What's the matter, Liz?" Amy inquired, clearly concerned.

"Do you think it's snowing this bad in Concord?"

"I can't say for sure, but I would imagine so," Adam said. "Why?"

"My dad's in Concord, with Governor Foley. My grandmother's out with my uncle, probably at his house. Zoey and Ellie are at my aunt's house. And…my mom's at the farm alone."

Evelyn laughed.

"Liz, honey, your mother's a grown woman, I think she'll be all right. Unless she's afraid of the dark, because the power's bound to go out."

Adam put an arm around his wife's shoulder and joined her in her laughter.

"I've never known Abbey Bartlet to be afraid of anything!"

"You don't understand," Liz said. "She's alone with my sister, with Lane. This night's going to be a disaster for her."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight Concord, New Hampshire

"Just think of it. This could be you."

"I don't know if I want it to be me."

"Come on, you were made for this."

"I'm not sure if now's the right time."

Governor Bob Foley hopped out of his seat on the couch with a start and immediately began pacing the room anxiously. Jed Bartlet sat watching him, back and forth, back and forth, until he began to feel a bit light-headed.

"Bob, sit down. You're making me dizzy."

Bob stopped all movement, but refused to be seated as Jed had requested of him.

"I don't understand you, Jed. I come to you, personally…"

"Well, technically I came to you."

"Yes, but at my request. I ask you personally to be my successor, to run for governor of the great state of New Hampshire. And you want to turn me down!" Bob asked, with more than a little incredulity.

"I didn't say that. I'm saying I can't give you a definite answer right now. I have a family, Bob. A life, away from here."

"New Hampshire is your home. You can't mean to tell me that Abbey and the girls are going to object to coming home."

"Well, the girls aren't going to be too keen on switching schools, especially since Liz is going to be a senior in September. But it's not even that. I'm just not sure this is the right time to take on such a demanding position. My mother's living with us, we've got two infants to take care of, three kids in school, and the fact that governing an entire state is a pretty demanding job. I don't know if I'm prepared to take on something like that," Jed explained.

"I'm two years older than you, so don't tell me you're too young"  
"I didn't say that either."

"Then what, in the name of all that is holy, are you saying!" Bob demanded, in exhasperation.

"I'm saying I don't know yet. I'm saying I want to talk to my family first."

"Okay," Bob replied, with a nod. "Talk to your family."

Bob stood up, and gestured for Jed to follow him.

"I appreciate your patience, Bob."

"Yeah. Just don't test me for too long." He smirked.

"Yeah, yeah."

As they walked through the governor's mansion, it took both of them a full minute to realize the incliment weather raging outside. Bob stopped in front of a window before they reached the front door.

"Jesus."

Jed moved to stand beside him, both of them gazing outside in astonishment.

"Well, Jed, old buddy," Bob said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Looks like you'll be spending your first night at the governor's mansion. The first of what will hopefully be many."

Manchester, New Hampshire

"Catherine!"

John Bartlet gasped in astonishment when he opened his front door only to find his soon-to-be ex-wife standing before him. She smiled awkwardly and avoided his gaze.

"Hi."

"What are you doing here?" He asked, though he sounded genuinely thrilled to see her.

"Johnny stranded me here," Catherine replied. "Apparently, he's been watching a little too much of The Parent Trap with Jason."

"Well…come in, come in. I won't have you standing out there in this weather."

She stepped over the threshold a bit reluctantly and followed him into the house. It had been nearly three months since she had set foot in the house she had called home for decades. Nothing had changed. She doubted that even the dust had been moved around at all.

"I like what you've done with the place," Catherine said. "Or rather, what you haven't done with it."

John merely smiled in response, then sat down in his usual chair. She took it as an invitation to sit as well, and she took her place on the couch across from his intimidating personage.

"How are you?" He questioned.

"I'm…fine. How are you?"

"I'm all right. I thought you were in Washington with Jed."

"I was," Catherine answered, softly. "We're in the area for Christmas."

"Ah, right, of course."

"You should come to the farm, see the kids. You have a new grandchild, you know. And a great-grandchild."

"I know that," John said, defensively.

"There's going to be a christening for both Annie and Lane in Boston next week. You should come."

"The child's name is Lane?"

"Alexandra Lane, yes," Catherine responded.

"And Annie is Elizabeth's?"

"That's right."

"I see."

"Jed did phone you, didn't he?"

"Oh, yes," John replied, quickly. "He did. Forced by Abbey to do so, it was clear."

"Don't say that, John. Jed would never refuse to inform you of the births of your grandchild and great-grandchild." She chuckled to herself. "Though I'm sure he begged Abbey to do it for him."

"I'm glad you can have yourself a good laugh about it." Though, he managed to crack a smile himself.

"I'm sorry."

The conversation came to a standstill for a moment, as they both contemplated their next moves.

"For the record," John said, clearing his throat. "You look wonderful."

Catherine blushed.

"Thank you."

"Really, you look like a completely different person."

"I don't know whether to be insulted or flattered," Catherine quiped in return.

"That's not what I meant, I just…"

"I knew what you meant, John."

"Well, good." He paused for a moment. "You're happy living with Jed, aren't you?"

"Yes," Catherine replied, honestly. "I am. Never a dull moment, I assure you. Ellie's got her first crush, on a boy in her class. It's adorable!"

"Isn't she a little young for that?"

"She's twelve years old. Too young for a boyfriend, but old enough for a crush. Oh, and Zoey's an absolute trip. I'm telling you, a more amusing child you never will meet. The things that come out of that child's mouth."

"All in good taste, I presume," John said.

"Oh, yes. She's remarkable. Seven years old and brighter than most ten-year-olds. An insatiable appetite for knowledge, just like her sisters."

"And her father."

Catherine smiled.

"Yes. Zoey is very much like her father, though she's got Abbey's spirit. Fiery and wild, she is."

"How is Abbey?"

"Honestly? She seems to be a bit troubled lately. Can't put my finger on why. Snapping at everyone, Jed included. He's absolutely beside himself. I think because, for the first time in a long time, he can't figure out what she's thinking."

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that."

Catherine shrugged dismissively.

"They'll recover. They always do."

After nearly an hour of incessant cries, Abbey finally left the room. She was determined not to leave, now matter how loud or intense Lane's cries became. But after awhile, it was positively unnerving. She stood outside the door, leaning against the wall. She felt tears well up in her own eyes as her lips began to quiver and her hands started to tremble uncontrollably. She brought her hands up to her face and wiped away the few stray tears that had managed to escape from their origin. She covered her bottom lip with the top, pursing them tightly in an effort to calm the quavering. She took a deep, stabilizing breath, infusing herself with an artificial strength that she could only pray would at least last her until Jed returned home.

Although it caused her great pain and angst to do so, Abbey walked away from her daughter and descended the stairs, trying desperately to protect her crumbling wall of emotions. She had left the television on in the living room, and walked in just in time to see Diane Keaton discover, at long last, Warren Beatty in the train station in Russia. They spotted each other over a sea of heads, their eyes locked. As if a force of gravity pulled them together, they pushed through the crowd until they were face to face.

Abbey stood behind the couch, her eyes glued to the television that rested a few feet away from her. As Diane and Warren embraced on screen, Abbey demolished her wall of protection and allowed the tears she had been holding in so bravely to pour out copiously.

The startling ring of the telephone terrified Abbey at first. She ran to the nearest phone and picked it up frantically.

"Hello?" She said, the sound of her recent tears lacing her voice.

"Hey."

"Oh. Jed, hi."

"What's the matter?" He asked.

"Nothing. Why do you ask?"

"Your voice sounds a bit shaky."

"No, I'm fine. Where are you?"

"I'm still in Concord. The weather's fierce here, I don't think I'm going to make it back tonight," Jed announced.

Abbey felt her breath catch in her throat and her heart drop into her stomach as she struggled, once again, to combat the tears that threatened her. The only thing that had gotten her through the evening up until then was knowing that Jed would soon be home. Then, and only then, would Lane stop crying. But now…

"Oh," she managed to whisper.

"How's the weather there?"

"It's…you know."

"Bad?"

"Yes."

"Right. Well. How is everyone there?" Jed questioned.

"Nobody here," Abbey replied, simply. "Ellie and Zoey are at Michelle's, as planned, and Liz is going to stay at the Gardners' because of the weather."

"Where's Mom?"

"Oh, I don't know. I assume Johnny took her back to his place once the snow got heavier. She'll call soon, I'm sure."

"Yeah."

He heard her sigh deeply and sniffle just a little.

"You sure you're all right?"

"I'm fine, Jed," Abbey responded, tersely. "For the thousandth time."

"Well, you sound like you've been crying."

"I'm watching Reds on television. It's almost over."

Jed laughed quietly.

"You watch that movie every time it comes on, and you never fail to cry at the end."

Abbey shrugged helplessly.

"It's sad!"

"It's only sad for you because Warren Beatty dies and it's pretty hard for you to lust after a dead man."

"Oh, shut up," Abbey said, rolling her eyes.

"Don't roll your eyes at me, Abigail."

"How do you know I did?"

"Because I know you," Jed replied.

When she didn't respond, he said, "Well. I should get back to being the perfect houseguest. This is the governor's mansion you know."

"Okay," she said, her voice returning to its original whisper.

"I'll be home first thing in the morning, God willing."

"Yeah."

"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Mmm-hmm," Abbey replied, faintly. "Tomorrow."

"I love you," Jed stated, tentatively.

Truthfully, the main purpose of his calling, besides to tell her of his whereabouts, was to find out how she would respond to that particular statement. Things had been shaky and uncertain between them for the past few days, and honestly, he had no idea where he stood. It wasn't that he doubted her love neccesarily, but he did doubt whether she would take this opportunity to profess it to him openly.

"I love you too."

He breathed a sigh of unmitigated relief and smiled gratefully, knowing full well that she could not see him.

"Bye, honey."

"Bye."

Abbey placed the phone onto the receiver and stared at it for a moment, silently. Then, her ears focused yet again on the sound of Lane's ceaseless tears. She looked over at the television and watched as Diane Keaton draped herself over Warren Beatty's lifeless body in despair. With one hand on the couch, she lowered herself onto the ground in one fluid motion, dropped her head into her heads, and made no effort to prevent her tears.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Manchester, New Hampshire

Jed Bartlet took great care in steering his car down the icy roads and adopted a speed that would have made his 92-year-old grandmother cringe. Though he was all too familiar with the infamous New Hampshire winters, his time in Washington had rendered him a bit out of practice. Behind him, a line of cars had formed, each of them more than equipped to handle such inclement weather. He ignored the car horns sounding at him and continued diligently down the road at the same speed. The way he saw it, he could remain at the slow but safe pace he had been and make it back home in one piece, or he could move at a faster speed, swerve off the road on a patch of black ice, and return home hours later. For Jed, the choice was easy.

When he finally pulled into his driveway, the long trail of cars behind him immediately began to pick up speed and flew past in such a hasty manner that Jed shook his head in disbelief. He was almost paralyzed by the cold air that hit him when he stepped out of the car and zipped up his jacket. He swiftly walked up to the front door, twisted his key in the lock, and let himself in.

The house was quiet. Quiet to the point where it was eery. Jed had expected all of his children to be home by this point. After all, it was nearly eleven in the morning. However, judging by the placid calm that fell over the house, he knew there was no way his children were around. After stripping himself of his jacket and various winter gear enlisted to combat the cold, he climbed up the stairs and checked every bedroom on the second floor. He found Lane sound asleep in her crib in her room, then turned his attention to his own bedroom. He opened the door a crack and peeked his head in. Pleased with what he saw, he opened the door fully and stepped into the room.

Tucked snugly under the covers, Abbey Bartlet was nearly invisible. Jed crept over towards the bed on his tiptoes, careful not to let the creaky floorboards wake her. That was his job. He sat on the bed beside her and watched her in her peaceful slumber for a few minutes. It had been quite awhile since they'd shared such a serene moment between them. Of course, this is likely because Abbey was asleep. The little time they had spent alone in the past few weeks had been strained, and consisted of them exchanging snippy remarks (mostly on her part) and cold glares. Looking at her, Jed nearly forgot all of that.

"Abbey," he whispered softly, running his hand down her back.

He was determined to wake her gently, hoping that she would remain as placid as she had while she was sleeping. When she didn't stir at his touch, he continued his efforts.

"Abbey," Jed repeated.

This time, he ran his fingers through her hair tenderly then leaned forward to kiss her temple. He grinned as her nose wrinkled up and, predictably, one eye shot open. Having registered the light of morning in her brain, she immediately closed the eye and buried herself further under the covers.

"Abbey!" He laughed, pulling off the covers.

She shivered and instinctively curled up in the fetal position.

"Open yours eyes and I'll let you have the covers back."

With her eyes still closed, she ruminated upon this proposition before making her final decision. Both eyes opened reluctantly. He kept his end of the bargain and replaced the covers over her. She snuggled into them and smiled up at her husband gratefully. Her smile faded instantly when she remembered the circumstances they had been facing lately.

"Morning," Jed said.

"Unfortunately," Abbey grumbled in reply.

"How you doin'?"

"I'm exhausted. How are you?"

"Just the opposite," he replied.

"Swell."

"How was your night?"

She shrugged.

"Fine. I watched the end of Reds, and the Tonight Show."

"Ah," Jed said. "Who was on?"

"Mmm…Nick Nolte, and that woman who was in Evita on Broadway back in the '70s."

"Patti LuPone?"

"Yes. She was very funny," Abbey said, rubbing her eyes.

He nodded.

"Good. I'm surprised to see you still asleep at this hour."

"What time is it?"

"Eleven," Jed replied.

"Oh. Well, I didn't get much sleep last night."

"Laney keep you up?"

She shook her head.

"No," she lied. "Just a bit of insomnia."

Discouraged by her hesitant response to him, Jed stood and walked in the direction of the bathroom.

"I'm gonna take a shower."

"All right."

She waited until she heard the shower running before getting out of bed. She joined him in the bathroom, though he didn't know it. The moment she twisted the faucet and turned the sink on, she heard her husband let out a yelp from inside the shower, a surefire indicator that the water had turned cold.

"Sorry!" She shouted.

He grabbed the shower curtain and popped his head out to look at her.

"Abbey!"

"I'm sorry! Really, I am sorry, honey. Okay?"

The cold water shooting out at his back was suddenly worth it, the moment she called him "honey." He nodded and returned to his shampoo.

"So how's Bob?" Abbey asked, in a feeble attempt at small talk.

Jed immediately dodged the question.

"Do you need to get in the shower? Because I'm not going to be much longer, if you want to just jump in here with me."

Abbey shook her head and laughed to herself. The two of them could barely make it beyond small talk and he was looking to get a little action. In truth, however, Jed hadn't said it for that purpose. He didn't even plan on touching her, as he knew full well how she would feel about that. He was really just trying to be polite. And, of course, unskillfully dodge her question with the first thing that came into his mind.

"No, Jed, I asked you about Bob."

"Why aren't the girls home yet?" Jed asked.

"Jed!"

"What?"

"I asked you a question!" Abbey exclaimed.

"And I asked you one."

"Oh, for God's sake. Liz is still at Amy's, she'll be home after lunch, and I have to go to Westford to pick up Ellie and Zoey this afternoon."

"Where's Mom?"

Abbey bit her lip apprehensively.

"I'm gonna let her tell you that one."

"Abbey, where is she?"

"I'm not saying anything."

Jed turned the shower head off, reached out for a towel, then stepped out of the shower. Out of habit, Abbey's eyes wandered over to him. He looked up and caught her oogling him, then laughed in amusement.

"You checking me out, Dr. B?"

She immediately averted her eyes back to the mirror and continued applying her makeup.

"Like you're not checking me out right now," Abbey replied.

"I won't deny it."

She smiled smugly and moseyed out of the bathroom, inwardly reveling in the way that, as she did so, he was indeed checking her out. Ruining the moment, predictably, was the all too familiar sound of baby Lane's intense, ear-piercing cries. Abbey stopped in her tracks.

"Jed?" She called out, a tremble in her voice. "Could you go get Lane please?"

"Abbey, I just got out of the shower!" Jed argued.

"I've been doing it all by myself since last night."

"Yes, I realize that, but I'm standing here in a towel!"

"Damnit!" Abbey cried out. "Fine!"

She stormed out of the bedroom, leaving Jed completely and utterly bewildered. She entered Lane's bedroom reluctantly and advanced on the crib. Lane's small body was writhing as she wailed, and only intensified when Abbey tried to pick her up.

Jed walked out of the bathroom and was startled to hear Lane still crying. He pulled on a pair of pants and walked to Lane's room. There, he saw Abbey pacing the room, a red-faced, crying Lane wriggling around in her arms. He stood in the doorway for a moment, as the sight before him registered in his mind. It was then that he remembered how often he had seem this image before, and had thought nothing of it. Now that he thought about it, he had never seen Lane resting calmly in his wife's arms, or even in her presence.

He rushed out to her and untangled Lane from her arms. Abbey breathed a visible sigh of relief, then watched enviously as Lane immediately relaxed at Jed's touch. She quickly scurried out of the room, unable to watch any longer. Jed held her close for a moment, rocking her back and forth gently until her breathing evened out. He then placed her back in her crib and returned to his bedroom to face his shaken wife. He found her sitting on the bed, staring down at the floor.

"Abbey," he breathed. "Honey, I am so sorry."

She looked up at him, tears fresh in her eyes. Within seconds, he was beside her, pulling her into his waiting arms. Against his bare shoulder she cried, tears she no longer had to hide.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"What was I supposed to say?" Abbey replied. "That my own daughter hates me, please don't leave me alone with her?"

He shook his head, mostly at himself.

"I should have figured it out myself. I can't belief it took this long. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," she whispered. "You were just angry at me, because I was being such a…well, you know. I apologize for that, by the way. You didn't deserve it."

He held her tighter, and she let him. For the first time in weeks.

"We're going to fix this, Abbey."

"How?"

"I don't know, but we will."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

May, 2001

"Say what you have to say," Abbey told him.

"No, I have to go down," Jed replied. "They're going to brief me on an evacuation plan for Haiti."

"All right."

"You'll be up later?"

"When?" She asked.

"Probably three or four."

"Am I usually up at three or four in the morning?"

"Not usually," Jed answered.

"Then let's assume I won't be tonight."

Jed nodded and left the room, leaving her alone, with nothing but her thoughts, as she had been for weeks. She sat, marinating in silence, for a few moments, relying on her glass of wine to keep her composed. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, determined not to let tears get the best of her. When she heard the door open not after, she did not flinch. She couldn't decide whether or not she wished it would be her husband. Part of her wanted to talk this out, as like always had, and now, after he had blown heroff, part of her just said 'screw him.'

"Mom!"

Well, that certainly wasn't Jed. Abbey turned her head a bit, her eyes following her youngest daughter as she ran over and sat in the chair across from her.

"Did you see Dad's thing!" Lane asked, excitedly.

"Mmm-hmm."

"How amazing was that? 'Yeah. And I'm gonna win.'"

Lane squealed with delight remembering the thrilling moment when her father had uttered those exact words.

"Where is Dad anyway? I thought he was here."

"You just missed him, honey," Abbey replied, monotonously.

"Oh. So he was here?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Did you talk to him?" Lane questioned.

"Mmm-hmm."

"Mom!"

Abbey sighed in exhasperation.

"What do you want me to say, Lane?"

"Well…I don't know! Just be a little more…excited?"

"I don't really see that happening."

"Why? What's wrong with you?" Lane asked, confused.

"Sweetie, why don't you go call your sisters, hmm? Maybe they'll share your excitement."

"Mom, come on. Tell me what's up. I'm fourteen, you can tell me stuff."

Abbey smiled sadly and shook her head.

"No, I can't."

"Mom."

"Zoey's on her way over here from her dorm. You should go wait for her."

"Okay." Lane relented. "Whatever. I'll see you later."

And so, Abbey Bartlet was, once again, left all alone.

"Abbey, you were lying down when I came in. I didn't see you."

"I believe you!" Abbey insisted, though she wasn't so sure she did.

She watched as he, satisfied with her answer, exited the room in a hurry. Then she closed her eyes and, as she has done numerous times in the past few days, imagined she was some place else.

Jed closed the bedroom door after him and turned, only to be stopped in his tracks by his fourteen-year-old daughter.

"Dad!" Lane cried. "I'm really glad I ran into you. I was actually going into to see Mom, but this is good because I…"

"Sweetheart, is this anything that could possibly wait? I have to read."

Lane stared at her father for a moment, trying to conceal the confusion she instantly felt at hearing his words.

"You have to read?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry, honey, I promise will talk sometime tomorrow, okay?" Jed asked.

Lane nodded reluctantly, careful not to look him in the eyes. She knew that if she did, he would see the glisten of the tears that were welling up in her eyes.

"Yeah."

"Good."

He touched her shoulder lightly, then set off toward the study, where he seemed to be spending an exorbitant amount of time lately. She shook her yet unfallen tears away, pushing a lone strand of her blonde hair behind her ears, then turned and knocked on her parents' bedroom door.

"Mom?"

"Yeah, come on in, Laney," she heard Abbey call back.

It had become a habit for Lane always to knock on her parents' bedroom door before entering. She had gotten herself into a few rough, scarring situations in the past, walking in on passionate arguments and passionate…other things she didn't like to think about. Regardless of whether or not both of her parents were in the room, Lane knew to knock. She had made the mistake of barging into their room nearly five years earlier, just in time to find her mother hunched over her bathroom sink crying copiously. She later found out that Abbey just had been informed of Leo McGarry's suggestion that her husband run for President of the United States.

Lane opened the door and walked in. Abbey took off her glasses and put her book on her nightstand when she saw her daughter come in. Lane smiled. Her mother always stayed on her father's side of the bed when he wasn't in bed with her, and vice versa. She didn't know exactly why that was, but she knew it was a good thing and she wasn't about to argue with it. Especially now, when she knew it wasn't all hearts and flowers with her parents, she was grateful to see her mother on her father's side of the bed.

"Hey."

"Hi, hon. What's up?"

Lane took a deep breath, then approached the bed with caution. Abbey invited her to sit, and she obliged.

"I just saw Dad."

"Yeah, and?" Abbey asked, gently.

"And I want to know what's going on. I want to know why Dad won't talk to you, I want to know why you're mad about reelection. Just tell me what's going on. I can handle it."

"No."

"Mom, please!" Lane implored her.

"No, Lane. I don't want you to have to take sides. I don't want to put you in that position."

"You don't think I deserve to know what's going on?"

"That's not what I'm saying," Abbey replied.

"Then tell me."

"Okay. But we're not spreading this information around, understood?"

Lane nodded in wholehearted agreement.

"A few years ago, shortly before your father's election, we made a deal."

"I think I remember something about that. I remember overhearing a fight you guys were having last year, about a deal."

"After the State of the Union?" Abbey asked.

"Yeah!"

"Yeah. The deal basically was an agreement that Dad would not run for a second term."

"Why? So you could get back to work and stuff? Like a compromise?"

"No, no. It wasn't about me."

"Sure sounded like it was about you last year," Lane said.

"Do you want to hear this or not?"

"Yes!"

"Okay," Abbey answered. "It had nothing to do with me, my career, any of it. It had to do this his health."

"What about it? I thought everything was cool."

"It is…cool. Right now, it's cool. But there's a very distinct possibility that in a few years, it won't be quite so cool. You know just as well as anyone that your father is overworked in this job, and that's fine. That's the way it's supposed to be. His life is his job. But all this stress, the constant state of emergency this place exudes, is not good for his MS in the long run. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Lane replied, quietly.

"And Dad wanted to keep the MS a secret from everyone. Staying in office for only one term was supposed to be his way of justifying that."

"Okay. But I still don't understand why you're so mad at him. He's screwing himself over, not you."

"No, honey," Abbey replied, struggling to stay calm. "He promised me. And by running for reelection, he's breaking his word. That's not something I take lightly from anyone, especially from him. He knows that."

"So that's why he's all avoiding you and stuff?"

Abbey nodded.

"I'm pretty sure, yeah."

"Well, that's retarded."

"Yes, it is." "I don't get it. Why don't you just break down that office door and say 'Dude. Talk to me.'"

Abbey couldn't help but laugh. She could always count on vivacious, fearless Lane for that.

"It just doesn't work like that, kid. And in a way, I'd like for him to come to me. After all, I am the wronged party here."

"I'm thinking Dad doesn't agree with you there," Lane replied.

"He's in denial. Eventually, he'll have to hop off that high horse of his and come talk to me. He's prolonging it."

"I don't know. I think maybe Dad has a point. He's a good president, and he loves it. Why shouldn't he do it for as long as he can?"

"I thought you said you were old enough to understand this," Abbey replied.

"I am, I'm just saying that, like…"

"You're not hearing me, Lane. There is an extremely real possibility that this job is going to kill him. Do you get that?"

Lane watched in horror as a few stray tears slid down her mother's cheeks. The emotions Abbey had tried to avoid delineating in front of her daughter had been revealed.

"And then what? Then I'm left alone, without him."

"You'll have us," Lane contributed weakly, truthfully unsure of what to say.

Abbey tried to smile through her tears, but her attempt wasn't entirely triumphant.

"I know, sweetie. But that's not the same thing. I can't do this without him."

"Can't do what?"

"Any of it! Forty years ago, I never thought I'd feel this way. I never thought I'd need some guy to survive. But now, after thirty-four years of marriage, I'm not sure I'd know what to do without him. So he works himself to death, and I'm left alone. An emotional wreck who cannot function of my own."

"So…this IS about you," Lane whispered.

"Okay, fine. I'm not going to argue with you anymore. You asked, and I told you. If you think I'm being selfish then so be it. I'm not going to argue with a fourteen-year-old about something like this."

Lane instantly took offense to the crack about her age, as she always did. Nothing angered her more than being belittled because of her age. Normally, the firecracker within her would have gone off and she would have set her mother straight, then stormed out of the room in a fiery rage. Not this time.

"I'm gonna go to bed. Night, Mom."

"Goodnight."

Lane leaned over and kissed her mother on the cheek, then tried not to rush as she left the room.

"Can I go a week without explaining myself?"

Abbey glared at him.

"You can go as long as you want without explaining yourself. Read your book."

"Sit down," Jed said. "We'll talk about it right now."

"I'm not in the mood, Jackass"  
"Isn't there any way I could change your mind? 'Cause I really had my heart set on it."

"Go to hell."

After she left, Jed found that being alone with his thoughts was not something he could handle. Abbey could deal with it and use the time constructively. Jed could not. He slammed his book shut, placed it on the nightstand, and got out of bed. He decided to take a stroll around the Residence, with no definite destination in mind. Subconsciously, he may have been looking for Abbey, but all he was looking for on a conscious level was a distraction. When he reached Lane's closed bedroom door, he found the distraction he needed.

"Laney?" He called, knocking on the door. "Can I come in?"

"Well, your agents outnumber mine by like a thousand, so I guess refusing wouldn't do me any good."

Smart girl, Jed thought as he let himself into the room.

"How ya doin'?"

Lane shrugged in response.

"I'm good too, thanks," Jed said.

His words were met by an icy stare on her part.

"You're mad at me."

"Ya think?" Lane responded.

"Mom recruited you into her army, huh?"

"Uh, no. I'm not five, I can make my own decisions now."

"Fair enough," Jed allowed. "Mind if I sit down?"

"Kind of."

"Look, Lane, I'm sorry I couldn't talk to you before. It was really important that I…"

"Read. I know."

"Help me out here. What can I do?"

"Well, I'm trying to, ya know, read here, so you could...leave," Lane retorted.

Jed nodded.

"I deserved that."

"You know what, Dad? For some crazy reason, I feel bad for you. So I'm gonna give you a break. But Mom's not gonna be so easy."

Jed laughed, cynically.

"Tell me something I don't know."

"You really hurt her, Dad. She's not being selfish, she's not trying to make you unhappy. It's not just because she hates the White House and being in the spotlight. She's just looking out for you. She wants you to, like, grow old with her and crap. At first, I was on your side. I thought she was totally overreacting. But a person doesn't cry themselves to sleep just because they're being all dramatic. You're like…her husband. You're supposed to be comforting her, not making her cry. I mean, come on. Are you TRYING to screw yourself over? 'Cause I don't see you doing anything to fix this mess. Just talk to her. That's all she wants. And I know you love to talk, Dad, so I don't see what the big deal is."

Jed smiled.

"When did you get so smart?"

"Eh, I take after Mom."

Jed nodded.

"You certainly do."

"So you gonna go talk to her or what?" Lane questioned.

"If I can find her."

But when he returned to his bedroom after a long and exhausting search for his wife, she was asleep.


End file.
